Work Text:
Peter had always been told angels were a good thing but was that really true when one is tearing him up from the inside?
No matter how hard he ran or how hard he hid, the voices of the damned were always on his mind. Their screams and shouts, their whines and cries, all echoed in his head like a howling wind of glowing eyes.
Is this what it felt like to be worthy? needed? wanted? Was it really worth it when the only thing that needs you is also the thing that’s slowly killing you?
Next to his companions, He’s nothing- Rumi with his graceful elegance, never a scratch, never a bruise, his striking confidence followed him everywhere he went. Yet Thanatos with his bluntness and commanding presence could alert everyone within the proximity. They were born to do something. They had a purpose….something that Peter lacked. To him, life was about sorting rocks and keeping his pet lizard alive but now he’s not sure what it’s about anymore.
Maybe this was his purpose, to be a vessel- a hollow shell for a higher power. He's only worthy because of Exandroth right? After all, Peter Sqloint was just a star in a solar system of planets.